Saturday, May 7, 2016

It’s Calling

There is an ache in my soul I cannot name. It gnaws on my innards trying to claw its way out. I have no name for this.

I dig a deeper hole. I dig faster. Wait, these are not all my treasures… are they? I try to pick one up. The roots extend into the earth like the runners of the blackberry bush. I pull harder. Thorns dig into my palms. I drop the piece and it rolls into the deeper hole. Crap, what does this mean?

I get through my day and slide downhill. Sometimes I feel so whiny and needy. It’s part of the aloneness perhaps. I know it’s important to keep busy, but I also feel the need to explore these feelings… because it’s not just about me. What I deal with extends beyond me. This exact moment may be about me and for me, but it’s more than me. Somehow I know this. I just can’t get it out and I’m afraid no one will understand. 

More and more I’m recognizing the need to talk, and not just for me, for others, too. These feelings tease me pull me, like it knows exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. Only I’m too thick to get it. Only that’s not exactly true, either. Oh, there’s a reason I’ve never liked riddles.

The piece slips farther into the hole as I reach for it. I can just barely put my finger on it. The words are on the tip of my tongue. I stretch my arm until it feels like it’s going to pull out of joint. The piece slides out of reach. 

I talk. I beg. I cajole. “Come here. Let me see you. Let me touch you. We can help each other.” Silence.

I guess not this day.





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